


This could be the end.

by samedifference61



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst and Porn, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, pirate feelings, power bottom Flint, started as PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samedifference61/pseuds/samedifference61
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Flint whispers a quiet breath of hasty words against Silver’s mouth, “I fear if this continues, you will be the end of me.” And perhaps all of this, the war, this thing curling and knotting between them, all of it will end in a way neither of them quite anticipated. Silver can’t afford to waste too much thought on the idea. Not right now. Fate can wait its fucking turn.</i> </p>
<p>Or, a self-indulgent excuse for power bottom Flint and an exercise in Silver’s S3 pov. Sorry (not sorry).</p>
            </blockquote>





	This could be the end.

There are moments when the world still stretches out endlessly before him on ocean waves of possibility. The vastness of it all is comforting after a hundred moments of a single thought— _survive_. Here, John Silver doesn’t need to think about survival. For a while, at least. Here, there is room for breath and the grit of sand beneath his fingertips, a touch of tidal wind across his closed eyes, and a moment to really feel the stretch of new skin (finally) sealing his leg off from decay.

“It’s healing nicely.”

Silver recognizes the voice and gait of his captain approaching from behind him. Flint stops to stand beside him, and Silver shields his eyes to squint up at him. A halo of sunlight shadows Flint’s expression, and Silver’s world narrows again to the source of all aforementioned possibilities.

“Better than I could have expected,” Silver affirms and stretches his severed leg, free from the brace, until it’s parallel with the other. Maybe better than he deserves. Maybe.

The beach is warming quickly as the sun rises. Flint sits down next to him in the sand, carefully moving the iron brace from its resting place. His coat is absent, and his white tunic is wet with sweat at the collar. Flint’s been awake for hours already, busy moving about, organizing the men for leave. Silver can see the blurred outline of the _Walrus_ before the horizon, flanked by Teach’s five ships and the prized Spanish Man O’War. The sails are lowered as last minute repairs are made and the last of the supplies are loaded aboard. Half of the crews are already aboard preparing to set sail at dawn the next day.

Silver won’t be among them. They’ve agreed its best for him to remain at the Maroon Camp until Flint and Teach are able to recruit other pirate crews from Port Royal and Kingston, however long that may take. Months probably, weeks if the winds (and god) continue in their favor.

If they are to win this war, they will need reinforcements. All have resigned themselves to that much, even Flint. And Silver’s name, the name attached to this war, will grow in reputation without Silver’s presence at sea. He’s needed here to maintain the careful relationship with the Maroon queen. Silver would rather be at sea, but he understands the importance of his role.

Flint steadily says, “When you reach the Barlow house, there is a small swine stable near the rear entrance. In the left corner under the abandoned straw, I have buried there a tin chest filled with three muskets and two short blades. They will need a good cleaning, but all should be functional. Gun powder is concealed in the food storage near the hearth room. It’s in a soapstone box about the size of my palm.”

Silver nods, keeping his eyes on the _Walrus_ , a fist of sand pressed tightly against his skin. Flint is speaking to him as if they will not meet in many months, if at all. Silver won’t be joining Billy at the Barlow house until the brewing rebellion in Nassau is firmly in their control. Not unless something unanticipated happens at the camp.

“Keep a careful eye on Rackham as I fear he’ll soon be restless with inaction. Trust Billy’s judgement if things become— complicated.”

A silence falls between them for a while. Silver is sure Flint is waiting for some kind of confirmation, or maybe a casual goodbye of sorts. Silver isn’t sure.

“Fine,” Flint finally says on a sigh, standing. He brushes the sand from his breeches, not looking at Silver. “It’s settled then.”

Silver smiles up at him, as disingenuous as he can manage. “I guess it is then.”

***

Of course, it’s not. Not at all.

And Silver’s tried playing along. He wishes he could let everything between them settle and fizzle out like a spark with no flame, but that isn’t possible when Flint is leaving him here while his world keeps narrowing to a single point, to something that neither of them anticipated, to a place that leaves him breathless and confused.

It’s nearly noon before Silver catches Flint alone as he’s inspecting a portion of the wooden wall recently repaired after the first attack from the redcoats. Flint cares about what happens to this place, Silver can see that now. They’re alone here, shielded by a narrow walkway between the wall and the raised platforms of the Maroon huts. It’s further shaded by tall palms and reedy coastal grasses that grow underfoot.

The midday sun makes the crowded space sticky with heat; the sweat is gathered along Flint’s hairline and his collarbones. There is added color to his cheeks today from the morning spent in the sun.

“Flint,” Silver begins, and he’s angry, might not have realized how angry until just now. “I hope you don’t expect me to wait around for—”

“You found me here to shout at me?” Flint smiles, giving an air of steady unconcern, but never quite meeting Silver’s eyes. “I thought we settled this. You are to stay because–”

Silver pulls at Flint’s jacket to move him to a further secluded alcove near the meeting of two platformed huts. He’s certain if Flint didn’t want to be moved, he wouldn’t. Silver does not have the balance to move a man without permission and assistance, not anymore.

Quieter, Silver says, “We’ve settled nothing between us. Not since the night Dufresne’s blood stained my hands. Not since—”

Not since a rushed meeting of tongues and hands and cocks between too many layers of clothing against the woodgrain of the door leading out of the captain’s quarters. Not since that one meeting only left Silver wanting more. Not since Flint decided pretending none of it happened was the best way, no, the _easiest_ way to move forward from it.

Flint swallows, nods, and he does meet Silver’s eyes now, and then there’s a palm at the place where Silver’s shoulder meets his neck. Warm fingers press into his skin, guiding him closer. It happens so quickly, Silver is certain Flint has been waiting for _him_ , and that’s— Silver’s immediate reaction is to push him away, step back until his back meets the bamboo and wood of the platform behind him. “You cannot just—”

Flint gives in easily, taking a step backward as well, retreating, hands falling to his sides. He slowly turns away, eyes low.

And that makes Silver even angrier because _fuck it all_ if this isn’t exactly what he’s wanted since the first time, his own pride be damned. He reaches for Flint’s wrist before Flint’s able to put more distance between them.

“If you leave me here—” Silver begins, and means for it to be a warning, but he can’t think of how to finish his sentence.

And Flint turns back toward him, startled. He looks down at Silver’s hand covering his wrist and closes the distance between them once again, two hesitant steps forward. Silver opens easily this time, fisting a handful of Flint’s shirt at his waist with one hand and keeping hold of Flint’s wrist in the other. Letting go isn’t an option anymore.

“Don’t leave me here,” Silver rephrases, softer this time.

The kiss they share is open and measured and Silver feels his whole body roll forward to fit into the curve of Flint’s hips. Flint grips Silver’s waist to steady him on his precarious balance, the cursed iron leg all but forgotten.  

Curiously, Flint seems content to let Silver lead him this time, so Silver lets time slip away and his focus narrows even further. There’s something here between them that he’s only just brushed against. Oh, it burns, but there’s something forgiving to it too, a promise of something he’s never known, too fleeting to properly grab onto. He’s going to try, though. With whatever time they have left, he’s decided he’ll have to try.

Flint’s cock is hardening perfectly against his thigh, and it makes Silver’s heart race and his own cock fill too. It makes him wonder how far they could take this here. A tiny thrill runs through his body. He doesn’t particularly care if someone happens upon this scene, but Flint will unfortunately almost certainly care. He reaches between them to press his palm into Flint’s cock anyway, just to see, just to know—

Flint breaks their kiss and takes hold of Silver’s wrist, not exactly stilling Silver’s hand but keeping him from escalating.

Flint whispers a quiet breath of hasty words against Silver’s mouth, “I fear if this continues, you _will_ be the end of me.” And perhaps all of this, the war, this thing curling and knotting between them, all of it will end in a way neither of them quite anticipated. Silver can’t afford to waste too much thought on the idea. Not right now. Fate can wait its fucking turn.

He gets a strong grip on the back of Flint’s neck and pushes their mouths together in a second messy meeting of lips and tongues and teeth.

In the end, the Maroon camp is far too small and crowded for no one to happen upon them, even hidden as they are. They manage to hear the three women passing along the path between the wall and the huts before they give away too much, moving to stand beside each other, careful with the placement of hands and mouths. The women smile shyly as they pass, and Silver smiles back while he knows Flint is scowling without needing to look at his expression.

Flint means to move away, but Silver pulls him back with a tight grip on his belt making Flint grunt at the unexpected maneuver. His hands immediately fall to Silver’s hips, steadying him.

“Before you leave me at dawn, this night, when the stars are overhead, we _will_ finish this,” Silver says clearly and directly, expecting Flint to challenge him.

Stepping further into his space, Flint just frames Silver’s face with his hands, and slowly pushes his curls back with his fingertips. There’s a long pause where Flint just looks at Silver, expression curious, like he’s trying to read Silver as he would a book. It makes Silver’s heartbeat pick up from the openness of it, but he stands still anyway. He tries to hold his ground but is mostly caught in Flint’s orbit once again.

Flint hums in what Silver interprets as confirmation, and then leans in to press a soft kiss to Silver’s mouth. After, he lingers in Silver’s space, close enough that they’re breathing the same air, eyes closed, and Silver’s so caught off guard by this single moment of intimacy, the overwhelming sweetness of it, that he lets Flint go when he finally pulls away. Just this once.

***

Flint watches Silver for the rest of the day, and doesn’t make any attempt to conceal it. Even now, he is watching Silver across the fire as the men eat together in the village square. He’s sure Flint is testing him, looking for any reason for him to go back on their agreement. Silver is determined to prove he’s ready to go deeper though, because he has to know just how deep it all goes.

Silver is good at reading people. He knows this about himself and fully admits to using this gift to his advantage on the regular. Observation is key. The men, for example: there’s an air of tranquility among them now that the need for rest after the events of the past few weeks has been fulfilled. Nearly everyone is content with their arrangements with the Maroons, and there is positive anticipation for setting sail in the morning. Jack, on the other hand, stalks about with uncertainty. He wants to move on Nassau, to reclaim what they’ve lost without delay. He worries about the English reinforcements coming too soon, but inwardly, the weight of Charles Vane’s death sits too heavily on his shoulders. He’s not stupid, so he’ll wait, but not for long.

Flint, though, Flint is someone who Silver thinks he can pin down one moment, and then somehow manages to turn his world on edge in the next. Silver could easily use the information about Flint’s former relationship with Thomas Hamilton to his advantage, but Silver won’t. And Flint knew that about him before he shared it. As far as Silver knows, he hasn’t shared it with anyone else.

He might trust Silver, but he’s still uneasy about bringing their personal relationship into a physical one. So Silver has tried to let Flint set the pace, but Silver isn’t one to let things happen to him. He _makes_ things happen, and he doesn’t need to fear Flint’s darkness any longer. It’s a part of him now.

***

When the stars are high in the sky, Flint keeps his word, and Silver somehow finds himself on his back on the bed in Flint’s quarters, clothing on, as he watches Flint casually strip down. He’s quiet until Flint takes a small vial of oil on his own hands and reaches back behind him to presumably open up himself for Silver’s cock. And that’s just— not what Silver had expected _at all_. And he has fucked and been fucked by men and women in the past, but this isn’t like those other times. This is James fucking Flint, the pirate king of Nassau, opening himself to receive Silver’s cock. It’s so unexpected, that he can’t keep it to himself, no matter how determined he was to lay back and let this happen on Flint’s terms.

“Now, this is unexpected,” he says, going up on his elbows to get a better look.

“You want me to stop?” Flint questions, voice carefully deadpan, but eyebrows raised.

“No,” Silver smiles defiantly. “I _want_ to be rid of these.” And he begins shedding his own clothing, starts with the buttons of his shirt, and then removes his breeches. He hesitates for a few seconds before decidedly pulling the leather open to release the iron leg. He lays it down by side of the bed. When Silver is finished, Flint is immediately there, kneeling on the bed and spreading his legs to fit Silver’s hips between them.

“Lay back,” Flint orders, and Silver is caught off guard just enough to compel him to listen. Flint uses the same oil to slick Silver’s cock without indecision. He twists his hand just right, leaving Silver nearly heaving before he’s even begun. Silver looks up at Flint looking down at him with such concentration it’s blinding. The moonlight paints his body in contrasting shadows, making his skin glow a pearly grey. Silver reaches up to grip Flint’s bicep, in need of something to anchor his brain to his body.

With a firm squeeze at the base of Silver’s cock, Flint warns him evenly, “If you’re going to come—”

“If you keep teasing,” Silver replies through clinched teeth before Flint can finish whatever command he’s come up with now. He can handle this, Silver reasons with himself. Then he grabs at Flint’s arse to prove his point, eliciting a low grunt from Flint’s throat and a show of teeth.

When Flint finally does sink slowly down onto his waiting cock, it’s _good_. So good, Silver feels all of the muscles tighten in his body and heat build low in his stomach. It’s too much for a few seconds, but he refuses to close his eyes to the half lidded, raw look Flint is giving him. Silver digs his fingertips into Flint’s straining thighs and breathes through the intensity of tight heat surrounding his cock.

Silver pushes his hips up just a little, just to see, and watches Flint’s body tense up, while his lip curls into a sneer, his cock still full and heavy between them. Flint knows exactly what he’s doing, even _likes_ what he’s doing and to possess that kind of knowledge about him, for Silver to see it and be part of it— It’s fucking _powerful_ , and Silver will never not look at Flint without this perfect image imprinted in his mind.

“You are so—” There are a million ways to describe Flint in this moment, and none of them seem quite right. Silver doesn’t get the chance to finish his thought though, because Flint cuts in with, “Shut your fucking mouth, John Silver.”

Flint’s eyes are closed now, and he doesn’t seem particularly angry, but Silver is almost certain he’d get a fist in his face for finishing his sentence with ‘beautiful’, so he doesn’t. He just smiles a little, then takes hold of Flint’s hips and pushes up into the other man, slowly at first, until the frown lines loosen along Flint’s brow and he’s certain pleasure is taking over the other thoughts and emotions always crowding Flint’s mind.

Flint guides him into a relaxed rhythm until they’re moving together with ease.

It isn’t long before Silver can feel the edge of orgasm building. Wanting to hold out just a little longer, he stills his own actions and reaches for the oil before fisting Flint’s cock with purpose. Flint reaches down to lead his movements into something more syncopated, a little slower. Flint tenses up just before he comes, and Silver can feel it overcome him from the inside, muscles tightening and releasing while gripping his cock perfectly.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Silver swears, dazed by the intensity of it. And he reaches for Flint, pulling him closer until he’s doubled over on top of Silver, close enough to kiss. Flint doesn’t resist, going to him easily with a hand pressed firmly into Silver’s torso. The hand covered in Flint’s come smears the sticky liquid all over Flint’s side and up the curve of his back, an easy slide mixed with the sweat gathering there. Flint makes a disapproving sound against Silver’s mouth, and Silver just smiles and kisses him deeper.

Flint breathes heavily above him but starts moving once again, and he must know Silver is close. Silver comes with a few deep grunts and arches his hips up high to push in as far as he is able.

When he’s finished, Flint falls to the bed beside him and they both breathe heavily into the silence. Silver has the strange desire to curl his body around Flint and press into his side, safe and sated. He doesn’t though, settles for lying close enough that their arms and hips and legs are touching.

It’s quiet in the camp, Silver realizes. Just the rhythmic sound of insects in the night.

Almost immediately after his breath slows, Flint moves to the edge of the bed to dress. Silver isn’t surprised by his retreat and isn’t offended because he knows now how affected Flint is by all of this. He can’t pretend anymore.  Silver doesn't move until Flint has his breeches and boots on. Then he slides close enough to press his chest up to Flint’s back. Flint goes still, waiting.

There’s just something he has to say before letting Flint go. Gently he says, “You don’t get to pretend like none of this can touch you. Not anymore. I’ve seen how you care, how you worry over me, how you worry over these people and this camp.”

Flint swallows once and turns to look at Silver over his shoulder. Instead of denying it, Flint nods once, and twists to press a hand to the back of Silver’s neck and a chaste kiss to his lips.

Silver continues, “I’ll keep your secrets, just as long as you let me take care of them, and you come back to us, to me. This is still your war to win.”

“If you keep your word, I will do the same,” Flint says, and Silver believes him.

***

Flint does leave at dawn, ferried out by the last of the _Walrus_ crew still on the Maroon Camp shores. And Silver doesn’t say goodbye and doesn’t waste further words. They’ve settled what needed settling between them. Silver is content with fate now, whatever it may have in store for them once this war pushes him, and all of them, back into a world narrowed by decisions made for the sake of survival alone.  

For now, he will keep the possibilities of their entwined lives at the forefront of his mind because if Silver’s learned nothing else in this perilous world, he knows hope is as vital to survival as any other part of life, so he will wait and plan and live. Fate will just have to wait along with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I don't have it in me to do a straight up pwp (I swear that's how this started!), so thanks for taking the time to read my angsty/porny ramblings. I would love to read and reply to feedback. So many hearts for the BS fandom, a tiny bright star in the fandoms universe. ♥


End file.
